


Heavy is the head that wears the crown

by NettlesandVanilla



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, First Kiss for these two, M/M, Since clearly I like writing those, Thranduil has emotions, and an adorable pout
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-19
Updated: 2020-11-19
Packaged: 2021-03-09 20:14:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 645
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27631898
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NettlesandVanilla/pseuds/NettlesandVanilla
Summary: First kiss scene from a larger story I couldn't quite get to work. I had too much fun with it to just delete it, and I think it pretty much stands on it's own.
Relationships: Bard the Bowman/Thranduil
Comments: 2
Kudos: 25





	Heavy is the head that wears the crown

After the Battle there had been a lot of diplomatic discussions, and meetings.  
All in all it wasn’t that unusual for the King of Mirkwood and the newly crowned King of Dale to be seen together. There had always been enough of common ground there, for mutual respect, and so their friendship had grown fast.  
So in times of these discussions it was perfectly normal for these two to spend time outside of formal context as well. 

One of those times had started when some diplomatic agreement or another had been accomplished. All the officials were leaving King Thranduil’s tent, where the meeting had taken place, and the king himself had taken up a bottle of wine. 

”Stay for a glass”, he offered.  
”I guess there’s a cause for celebration”, Bard said, sitting to the chair closest to his friend  
”There often is these days”, Thranduil smiled. 

After pouring both of them a glass of wine he sat next to Bard. He looked at the former bargman. The crown didn’t look out of place on his brow, but his former life had left the man weatherbeaten and worried. 

”The crown is going to give you a headache”, the elf said absentmindedly.  
”That’s true”, Bard said, sounding too cheerful at the prospect of a headache.  
He sipped his wine, before taking the crown off. 

Then he carefully, and slowly, reached for the other king’s crown. 

Thranduil had to admit, such boldness and borderline pragmatism was one of the reasons he liked the human. 

Also Bards hands in his hair felt safe. 

When their crowns laid side by side on the table, Bard reached for his hair again. Thranduil closed his eyes without even noticing. Like a house cat accepting pets, he thought hazily. 

Thranduil felt Bard’s fingers running in his hair. The hands were shapen by hard work, the skin rough but the touch gentle.  
It had been some time since anyone had dared to play with his hair. The feeling was nice. Not all that similar to that of his late wifes, but that probably added to the niceness. Thranduil noticed he enjoyed the calloussnessess of the other man’s fingertips. Who would have thought? 

Bard had been afraid of touching Thranduil, but seeing the faintest of smiles bloom in his face, like the first taintive flower of spring, really put his mind at ease.  
Thranduil’s hair was silky soft, as anyone could have guessed, and Bard tried his best to avoid catching any hairs in any little cuts in his fingers or the jagged edges of his nails. 

Finally Bard’s fingers left Thranduils’s hair, and slid instead along his jawline, eventually tipping his chin back, just a tiny bit, with his finger.  
The elf opened his eyes. His gaze was warm as his smile, but just as careful.  
”That was nice”, he said softly,”if you were to kiss me now, I wouldn’t be offended by it”, 

Bard laughed at that, startling the elf, whose head he was still cradling in his hand.  
”You wouldn’t, would you?”, he asked. 

The elven king pouted. That hadn’t seemed too likely a few moments ago, but there it was. 

Bard was still laughing when he kissed him. 

—-  
That night was full of stars.  
After the kiss they had finished their wine, speaking easily of unimportant things, until Bard had decided he should head for his home for some sleep. 

Thranduil hoped the man slept well, but he himself couldn’t. His restlessness had grown until he had abandoned all attempts for dreaming, heading outside instead. 

The stars were beautiful, but gave no answers, as was their habit.  
Thranduil had seen elves fall for humans before, and it never ended well. And he didn’t even know what the kiss had meant for either one of them. 

Without conscious thought his fingers traced the path from his hair to his chin.


End file.
